


Magic Gone Awry

by wyvern



Series: Summer Pornathon 2013 - Main Challenges [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arse Worship, Dubious Consent, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvern/pseuds/wyvern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay that Merlin's magic sometimes gets out of hand, but it's never quite done it like <i>this</i>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Gone Awry

**Author's Note:**

> Summer Pornathon challenge 7: Magic. Challenge rules can be found [here](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/95682.html).
> 
> I've barely edited this ficlet at all before publishing it here (it was exactly 750 words from the beginning), so this is pretty much the entry as it stood in Phton. It's been neither beta'd nor britpicked, so please tell me when grammar and/or spelling is off!
> 
> Merlin belongs so Shine, BBC, history and whatever else. I don't make any money off this.
> 
> Comments are love, you know? So please tell me what you think! (I'm open to constructive criticism, as long as it is just that: constructive.)

\--------------------

A loud bang rings through the flat, loudly enough to be heard through Arthur’s bedroom door. The man in question looks up from the essay document staring back at him from his computer screen. Frowning, he rises from his chair and treads on bare feet to the door and opens it. There’s no one there, and the flat is once again quiet.

That’s weird. Merlin usually lets him know when he’s messed something up. And by ‘let know’, Merlin usually shouts at the top of his lungs to tell Arthur he’s not hurt. Which is good, because Merlin is more than a little accident-prone –- especially with his wild magic and all.

Carefully, quietly, he walks out into the sitting room and down the hall towards the kitchen. Better check up on the idiot, making sure he’s not in some sort of trouble. Again.

Merlin is indeed in the kitchen, but something’s wrong. A big pan is lying upside down on the floor, obviously dropped as Merlin’s tried to remove it from the topmost shelf, where it belongs. That’s not what’s wrong, though. No, it’s that Merlin’s leaning heavily on the counter, standing with his back to Arthur, breathing harshly for no apparent reason. His hands are clenching at the edge so hard his fingers are turning white and his head is bent, making it impossible for Arthur to see his face.

Arthur’s just about to ask what’s wrong when he notices the thick, glowing tendrils of magic and chokes on his own spit. The magic itself isn’t unusual -– Merlin uses it often around the flat, to practice -– but never for _this_ use... 

The tendrils are swirling around Merlin’s middle, caressing his arse, gently lifting his shirt to expose his back, and Arthur’s pretty sure why Merlin dropped the pan. The magic’s not only under his shirt, but inside his trousers, too... When Merlin lets out a low whining and doesn’t seem to be able to stop himself from jutting his arse out, _onto_ the magic, every ounce of Arthur’s blood seem to rush south. At a loss for what to do, he just stands there, watching Merlin writhe and sweat –- his neck is glistening with it -– in front of him.

Merlin’s legs are trembling with exertion and just as Arthur’s thinks that he should reach out to steady him, he sinks down to his knees and leans forward onto his elbows on the floor, head still bent, breath escaping him in short puffs. The new position gives Arthur a beautiful view of Merlin’s behind -– a behind he has sneaked glances at for _months_. Oh, the dreams he’s had of stroking, licking, fucking that arse. He licks his lips.

Involuntarily, he lets out a weak moan and gets down on his knees, too. Merlin doesn’t react and Arthur’s not sure if he didn’t hear or if he’s too distracted to care that Arthur’s there, right behind him. He takes a firm grip on Merlin’s trousers and starts wriggling them off. Inch by inch, they reveal more and more of that gorgeous, pale skin.

Merlin groans and mumbles something incomprehensible. The magic tendrils expand and Arthur can feel one caressing his cheek as he finally manages to expose Merlin’s arse completely. He swallows audibly, stares at the scene in front of him. The tendrils are not only caressing, but effectively _fucking_ Merlin. 

“Arthur, Arthur,” Merlin moans.

Arthur’s breathless when he answers, “Yeah...” 

He reaches out and traces a finger along the rim of Merlin’s hole, where the magic stretches it out and pulses contentedly. Merlin whines at the touch, but inches back nonetheless.

“ _Arthur..._ ”

The magic is out of control, even Arthur can see that. It’s fucking Merlin slowly and surely, stretching his hole wider with every thrust, while keeping him from coming by twisting and squeezing around the base of his cock. Sweat is running along Merlin’s back, and Arthur can only imagine the desperation he must feel.

But he doesn’t know what to do, except watch. And watch he does, commits it all to memory while stroking the taut skin around the magic.

Merlin shudders with a mixture of pleasure and frustration when the magic makes a particularly nasty thrust.

“Just... help me, Arthur. It’ll stop if... Ah!” He groans, but is sounds strangely similar to a sob. “I can’t... It won’t stop until... _Ah, Ar_ thur! Just, just... fuck me, _now_!”

Oh... Oh! _Well_ , Arthur thinks as he fumbles with his zipper. _Anything to help_.

\--------------------


End file.
